


Oklahoma Sky

by dorlgirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: I suck at tags, M/M, Road Trips, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 19:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorlgirl/pseuds/dorlgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time away from Beacon Hills has been exactly what Derek needed. Something is pulling him back home though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oklahoma Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from [Oklahoma Sky](http://youtu.be/L_tdWYvUV9U) by Miranda Lambert.

Derek loved thunder. As a child, he would clap his hands and make up stories about the Sky being angry and lonely because the Moon had her beautiful wolf children to sing to her. While most of his siblings either ignored the storm outside or cringed from the overly loud noises, he would beg his mother to let him go outside and feel the rain and wind on his face and the ground shake beneath his feet. She always said yes.

It’s been a few months since they had left Beacon Hills, and the mountains in Arizona were beautiful. Watching the desert give way to unexpectedly green and lush forests as the elevation climbed loosened something in his heart. Cora had never been through this area, and seeing her smiling, enjoying their surroundings was an unexpected gift. The dark clouds roiling overhead made it just about perfect. 

At the first booming crash, Cora laughed. When the black sky lit up with forks of lightening, she turned to Derek, excitement clear on her face. 

“We’re stopping for the night at the next motel we come across.” She wasn’t asking. She loved storms just as much as Derek did. 

Derek smiled, glad that some things were still the same. “Yeah. We are.”

***

They didn’t stay inside that night. They ran in the forest, splashing through puddles, howling at the thunder, laughing at the lightening. For the first time in years, he felt free, like everything was okay. Derek frowned, slowing down to let Cora pull ahead in their game of chase.

Almost. Everything was almost okay. The further they drove from Beacon Hills, the lighter he felt. Except for a…tug he constantly felt. At first the thought it was his old friend Guilt trying to pull him back. That didn’t make any sense though. When he’d given up his Alpha spark to save his sister, it was like everything dead and rotten inside him was pulled loose, too. As they drove, it was purged, bit by bit, story by story, night by night spent curled up on motel a bed with his sister’s head on his shoulder. Finding Cora, giving up his power to keep her alive, leaving the town that was the center of so much pain, was a release. It felt like all his failures were being left on the road behind them.

He hadn’t felt guilty about leaving. Even when he said goodbye to Stiles. Stiles, who smiled at him, touched his cheek so gently and told him it was okay. Stiles, who still shined bright enough to make Derek ache. The darkness wrapped around his heart didn’t diminish that light; Derek thought it only made it brighter. 

“Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars.”

“Huh?”

Derek blinked, coming back to himself. Cora stood in front of him, clothes soaked and clinging to her skin, hair plastered to her head and back. She tilted her head slightly and gave Derek a confused smile. 

“I…”

“Derek, are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yes. Sorry, I’m fine.” He grinned suddenly and tugged a lock of her hair. “You’re it.” He laughed at her shout and picked up speed as he ran, dodging trees and his sister.

****

The small cafe in the center of town was busy, but didn’t feel crowded. It was a tourist town but most of the customers seemed to be regulars, calling out greetings to the boy at the register and the woman working the espresso machine. The steady stream of cheerful how-are-yous and good-mornings lulled Derek and Cora into a quiet contentedness. 

They shared memories of loud Saturdays where the entire Hale pack would crowd into the kitchen, lounging at the enormous butcher’s block table, leaning on counters, ducking around each other as someone asked for a mixing bowl or if someone could run out to the herb garden for some thyme or flowers for the table setting. The clack of mugs in saucers and the hiss of steaming milk made them think of family dinners full of laughter and a dozen simultaneous conversations, passing dishes and smiles to each other. 

Memories of those days used to make Derek angry. He used them to bind that anger to himself, anchoring his humanity and driving him to wake up every day, no matter how much he would rather hide and fade away some mornings. Now, with Cora smiling at him across the small table and dipping her spoon into the whipped cream topping off her hot chocolate, the memories filled him hope. Visions of rebuilding his home and filling it with a new family took root. He smiled back and dipped his finger into the foam of his latte. He reached forward and dabbed it onto Cora’s nose, laughing when she stuck her tongue out at him and crossed her eyes to try and see it.

The woman behind he counter called out an order and smiled softly at them, and Derek couldn’t help but grin back.

***

Derek suggested heading north over the Rockies to chase the late summer storms. The tug was still there, pulling Derek from his thoughts and causing him to stare out into nothing. Maybe he needed more distance from Beacon Hills? Cora finally brought it up when they hit Montana.

“Did you know you always face the same direction when you do that?”

“Sorry?” Derek focused on his sister, shaking his head slightly.

“When you suddenly stop talking and lose your focus. You always face the same direction.”

“I do?” His brow furrowed as he turned to face Cora.

“Yes. You always look to the west.” She had a smug little smile that Derek found both adorable and annoying. “And you rub your hand over your chest, like you’re in pain.”

“Really.” He gave her a flat stare, resisting the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yep. And! You always have your phone in your hand before…ha. See?”

Derek looked down when he heard the ping on his mobile, the smile he’d been holding back breaking free.

“He’s punctual, I’ll give him that.”

Derek hummed an agreement as he opened Stiles’ weekly email. It was never long, he never asked questions. Every Sunday at four in the afternoon, Stiles would send Derek a short note. Sometimes it was just a simple ‘hey,’ and sometimes he’d tell Derek about the rain he listened to while he fell asleep or the orbital resonance Cruithne shares with Earth. Stiles never sent more than one email per week, never mentioned the rest of the Pack, and never expected a reply.

_You were born with potential._  
You were born with goodness and trust.  
You were born with ideals and dreams.  
You were born with greatness.  
You were born with wings.  
You are not meant for crawling, so don't.  
You have wings.  
Learn to use them and fly. 

The tug pulled painfully in Derek’s chest and he gasped, almost dropping the phone. His head jerked sharply up and he stared at Cora, wide-eyed.

“There it is,” she said softly and took his hand, giving his fingers a squeeze. 

“Cora…”

“Been waiting for you to figure it out, Derek. I was starting to think we’d be in Toronto before you realized.” 

He let her lead him back to the car and she pulled the keys from his pocket before nudging him to the passenger side.

“So. West?” she asked as he sat stunned, staring at his phone in silence. “Derek? We going home?”

“Home,” he repeated, nodding slightly. “Let’s go home.”

***

_I have chased out duality, lived the two worlds as one._  
One I seek, one I know, one I see, one I call.  
He is the first, he is the last, he is the outer, he is the inner.  
Beyond He and He is I know no other. 

It was the first text Derek had sent him since he’d left with Cora for parts unknown. Stiles blinked, reading the message again. He huffed out a small laugh, closing his eyes as he tapped the phone to his lips. He took a deep breath and tilted his head back, exhaling a ‘thank you’ to the ceiling. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter as the heaviness in his chest shifted, his muscles easing slightly. 

He smiled when he heard the tap and opened his eyes, turning his head to see Derek perched on the roof. He walked across the room and opened the window, moving aside as Derek swung his legs through and sat on the sill. 

“Rumi?”

Derek inhaled sharply as the tug pulsed. “You started it.”

Stiles’ smile widened and he stepped back, giving Derek space to step fully into the room. 

“You didn’t have to come back. I know how much you needed to be away from here.”

“I did,” Derek said, following the pull toward Stiles. A warm flush spread under his skin, growing hotter as he reached out to touch Stiles’ cheek. He sighed at the sparking sensation when his fingertips started to trace the patters of moles on Stiles’ cheek. “But now I need to be here. I need to be right here.” His other hand reached out and tangled their fingers together. 

“How long?” His smile didn’t waver, even when the darkness pressed against his heart at the thought of Derek leaving again.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“On you.”

Stiles’ brows drew together.

“It depends on when you leave for college. On where you’ll go. On if…” Derek stuttered to a stop, swallowing heavily. His eyes darted between Stiles’ and he drew a deep breath. “On if you’ll let me come with you.”

Stiles mouth opened, but no sound made it past his lips.

“Stiles, do you remember what you told me the night I left?” He smiled slightly as Stiles nodded slowly. “I did what you said. I took off, I healed. My body fixed itself and everything else…you were right. It just…fell away. It wasn’t perspective or distance or anything like that. You were right. I had to let everything go, jump off that cliff into the dark. And then…then I found all the cracks and all the empty spaces. I could see them so clearly. I thought I’d failed. Again.” He squeezed Stiles’ fingers. “But then I saw your text. And everything fell into place.”

“Derek…” His fingers twitched in Derek’s grasp.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Stiles, I finally realized it’s okay to have cracks and broken pieces and sharp edges and raw spaces. Because those are filled and patched and softened and soothed. Every time I read your emails, every time I’d think your name or face west, I’d feel you filling every empty space inside of me.”

“Face west?”

Derek laughed, the tips of his ears darkening in a blush. “I’d find myself looking for you, even though you were hundreds of miles away.” He stepped closer, nearly flush with Stiles and shuddered softly at the wave of heat pouring off of him. “Please. I need you. I need your light and your laughter and you bad jokes and sarcasm. I need your strength. I need to reach out and feel your skin. I need you to reach back out to me.”

Stiles eyes misted, fighting back tears. “Derek…it’s…the darkness, it changed me.”

“I know it did. I’m sorry you had to fight it by yourself so long. But you’re still brighter than the sun. Let me take some of the dark. I can carry you when you need to rest, and catch you when you fall.”

Stiles’ face crumpled and his hand fisted Derek’s shirt, pulling himself closer. “Derek,” he whispered brokenly.

“I love you. Let me help. Let me stay.”

“I love you, Derek.” He brushed their lips together, feather light kisses between ragged breaths. He buried his face into the space between Derek’s shoulder and neck, breathing him in and feeling himself relax fully for the first time since his sacrifice. He burrowed closer, feeling Derek’s arms tighten around him and sighed as the darkness flickered, pulling back a bit. 

They would be fine. No matter what happened now, they would handle it together.


End file.
